银色马 01（在线收听）

MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES

by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Adventure I. Silver Blaze

“I am afraid, Watson that I shall have to go,” said Holmes as we sat down together to our breakfast one morning.

“Go! Where to?”

“To Dartmoor; to King’s Pyland.”

I was not surprised. Indeed, my only wonder was that he had not already been mixed up in this extraordinary case, which was the one topic of conversation through the length and breadth of England. For a whole day my companion had rambled about the room with his chin upon his chest and his brows knitted, charging and recharging his pipe with the strongest black tobacco, and absolutely deaf to any of my questions or remarks. Fresh editions of every paper had been sent up by our news agent, only to be glanced over and tossed down into a corner. Yet, silent as he was, I knew perfectly well what it was over which he was brooding. There was but one problem before the public which could challenge his powers of analysis, and that was the singular disappearance of the favourite for the Wessex Cup, and the tragic murder of its trainer. When, therefore, he suddenly announced his intention of setting out for the scene of the drama, it was only what I had both expected and hoped for.

“I should be most happy to go down with you if I should not be in the way,” said I.

“My dear Watson, you would confer a great favour upon me by coming. And I think that your time will not be misspent, for there are points about the case which promise to make it an absolutely unique one. We have, I think, just time to catch our train at Paddington, and I will go further into the matter upon our journey. You would oblige me by bringing with you your very excellent field-glass.”

And so it happened that an hour or so later I found myself in the corner of a first-class carriage flying along en route for Exeter, while Sherlock Holmes, with his sharp, eager face framed in his ear-flapped travelling-cap, dipped rapidly into the bundle of fresh papers which he had procured at Paddington. We had left Reading far behind us before he thrust the last one of them under the seat and offered me his cigar-case.

 银色马

    一天早晨，我们一起用早餐，福尔摩斯说道：

    “华生，恐怕我只好去一次了。”

    “去一次？！上哪儿？”

    “到达特穆尔，去金斯皮兰。”

    我听了并不惊奇。老实说，我本来感到奇怪的是，目前在英国各地到处都在谈论着一件离奇古怪的案件，可是福尔摩斯却没有过问。他整日里紧皱双眉，低头沉思，在屋内走来走去，装上一斗又一斗的烈性烟叶，吸个没完，对我提出的问题和议论，完全置之不理。报刊经售人给我们送来当天的各种报纸，他也仅仅稍一过目就扔到一旁。然而，尽管他沉默不语，我完全清楚地知道，福尔摩斯正在仔细考虑着什么。当前，人们面前只有一个问题，迫切需要福尔摩斯的分析推论智能去解决，那就是韦塞克斯杯锦标赛中的名驹奇异的失踪和驯马师的惨死。所以，他突然声称，他打算出发去调查这件戏剧性的奇案，这不出我所料，也正中我下怀。

    “要是我不妨碍你的话，我很愿和你一同去。”

    “亲爱的华生，你能和我一同去，那我非常高兴。我想你此去决不会白白浪费时间的，因为这件案子有一些特点，看来它可能是极为独特的。我想，我们到帕丁顿刚好能赶上火车，在路上我再把这件案子的情况详细谈一谈。你最好能把你那个双筒望远镜带上。”

    一小时以后，我们已坐在驶往埃克塞特的头等车厢里，一顶带护耳的旅行帽掩住福尔摩斯那张轮廓分明的面孔，他正在匆匆浏览他在帕丁顿车站买到的一堆当天报纸。我们早已过了雷丁站很远，他把最后看的那张报纸塞在座位下面，拿出香烟盒来让我吸烟。